


Bits And Pieces

by loveinamaltshop



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Descriptions in the chapter titles!, Fluff, M/M, Possibly not fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-05-16 17:25:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14815670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveinamaltshop/pseuds/loveinamaltshop
Summary: An unrelated collection of things that are less than a thousand words, are scenes within scenes, and generally tiny ideas.Generally Pete/Patrick but we'll see. Tags will be added as I go.





	1. Pete/Patrick (pre-hiatus drunk confessions)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! If you're reading this, this is going to be a collection of things (not necessarily abandoned or unfinished) I write for my friends usually but don't really evolve into something more. Be it tiny snapshots or aftermaths, we've got it here. I'm planning to post maybe every other day since they're all just sort of there already.
> 
> Translation: My Google Docs is getting a little crowded and I'd rather share it with you all than leave it there. That being said, enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Defensive, Pete replies with a stern “This _is_ the fun bus.”

The alcohol had worn off Pete about an hour ago and he had one hand over Patrick’s chest and the other on his Sidekick. They had a show the next day and Pete needed to make sure drunk Patrick was _asleep._

“Go fuck yourself,” slurred incorrigible, drunk Patrick when Pete told him this.

“Go fuck _your_ self,” retaliated tired, now-sober Pete.

“I want to go to the fun bus,” Patrick declared, referring to Joe and Andy’s.

Pete tears his eyes away from  the entertaining flurry of texts from drunk Joe and stares at Patrick. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Patrick said evilly. As evilly as a cherub-faced ginger kid could.

Defensive, Pete replies with a stern “This _is_ the fun bus.”

“You’re not letting me have any fun,” Patrick says.

And suddenly there was a hand on his thigh. _Oh my God._

“Oh my God,” Pete said too loudly to the bottom frame of the top bunk.

“You’re such a tease,” Patrick growls, hot and damp against Pete’s ear “I like you so much but you have to be my fucking bandmate, dude. Great fucking job, asshole.”

Pete swallows, genuinely assessing the _best course of action_ in this situation. “It’s technically Joe’s fault,” he says, like an idiot, “You know, for starting the band.”

“I fucking hate Joe,” Patrick mumbles and his bottom lip catches Pete’s earlobe. “I’m gonna kill him. Like, totally run him over with this bus.”

“The fun bus, right?” Pete goads.

“Not yet,” Patrick grumbles before he turns his body, curls his arm over Pete and presses the side of his face against his neck “Quit the band, Pete.”

He sounds terrifyingly serious that Pete has to turn to look at him. His mouth is level with the bridge of Patrick’s nose. “And if I don’t want to?”

“You’re not getting _any_ of this,” Patrick says, words just inching level and sober.

It’s the last thing Pete hears before there’s soft snoring.


	2. Pete/Patrick (Van days/being "seen")

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I was starting to think I was invisible.”

Patrick doesn’t like being noticed and Pete knows this too well.

He ducks his head after shows, blushing too hard at the girls that have a good five years his senior (Patrick _Stud_ , Joe had very lamely called him that night) and at guys who are giving him looks across the bar, for a fight or a fuck, but it didn’t matter because Pete didn’t like it either way.

Patrick tips his hat low and helps the tech haul off amps and instruments.

Pete does his best to redirect the crowd because he doubted a vocalist would be much use if his face literally went up in flames.

He figures mooning the crowd would do the trick.

(They end up blacklisted from the venue and it’s not worth it.)

* * *

This girl with a digital camera snaps a picture of Patrick at an objectively unflattering angle.

It makes Patrick fumble on _“t_ _h_ _e one your shoes have frayed_ _”_ and some assholes in the back laugh.

Pete’s already hauled his bass to the tech, so when he grabs his mic to do the accompanying screaming, in true rock star fashion and definitive of his years as a soccer star in high school, he has the camera flying across the crowd.

* * *

Pete kisses Patrick some night, after some show, fueled by some beers.

“I didn’t think you liked me like that,” whispers Patrick, glowing not quite like the impersonal white light of the 7-Eleven they’re in, but a little more like the moon outside. Easier on two AM eyes and promising to be there the next night.

The back of his head hits a bunch of sanitary napkins when he smiles at Pete after pulling away. He’s never looked better.

“Were you waiting?” Pete asks excitedly. A stupid wide grin scrunches up his face too much to be attractive, but Patrick smiles back just as hard.

“I was starting to think I was invisible.”

Pete shoves him up against the tampons and kisses him like how second kisses are supposed to be – fiercer and just a smidge more tongue.

“Only when you try,” Pete teases.

Patrick rolls his eyes and slips a knee between Pete’s and grabs at his belt loops to pull him closer.

Kid’s learning fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are love! My tumblr is [loveinamaltshop](https://loveinamaltshop.tumblr.com/). I'm very open to prompts so don't hesitate to send them my way!


	3. Pete/Patrick ("My best I'll-never-know," hiatus)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re still here?”

Pete doesn’t wake up alone. 

It’s a sensation he hasn’t gotten used to: to have himself draped over another form, heartbeat in lieu of an alarm clock.

It’s Patrick, because that’s where Pete will always find himself back to, hell or high water. Hospital bed or stage risers. Hotel room with the light trickling where they didn’t pull the curtains close enough — the remnants of yesterday in right now. 

Patrick stirs after Pete’s hand finds itself combing over Patrick’s chest, waking up to eyes as morning-bleary as his. 

“Morning,” Pete whispers like a secret. 

“You’re still here?” Patrick chuckles, fingertip rubbing against the inner corner of his eyelid.

It’s a joke, Pete tells himself, it’s a stupid joke they’ve always had. Born from heated nights and even more heated mornings in each other’s bunk, heady with the smell of boy and the necessity of pulling away. It doesn’t make it hurt less.

“Do you need to talk about it?” Patrick offers, and Pete wishes he didn’t make it sound like a chore. He wishes he smiled with his eyes again. He wishes he doesn’t look at the angry red numbers of the digital clock like it’s a time bomb. “I don’t have to be at the airport till noon.”

Pete swallows, and he can taste the ghost of his pride — bitter and unrelenting. “If you’ll let me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are always love :) Tumblr is @[lovenamaltshop](http://loveinamaltshop.tumblr.com).


	4. Pete/Patrick (Pre-hiatus, insomnia)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you think we’ll need a prenup?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something a little different. Enjoy!

“Patrick, Patrick,” is said in Pete’s version of a whisper. 

Joe and Andy shush him simultaneously before Patrick manages to blink awake. He frowns at the light coming from Pete’s Sidekick shining harshly at his face, burning past his eyelids. 

His eyes don’t adjust to the dark but he knows Pete’s smiling, grinning like an idiot. 

Patrick is too tired to throw fists. He closes his eyes instead.

“I figured something out,” Pete stage-whispers and Andy is heard to groan out a  _ “Pete, I swear to God,”  _ from his and Joe’s side of the bunks. Patrick feels him ambling to move beside him. He sighs, makes room, lets Pete throw his thigh between Patrick’s legs. 

“What is it?” Patrick yawns, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You know how I kiss you like, all the time?” He pauses. “In places?”

Patrick makes a non-committal noise. “How could I forget?”

Pete ignores him. He noses up Patrick’s neck, inhaling deeply. He stays quiet.

“Pete?”

“I want you to be all mine, Patrick,” is said in a single breath.

“That’s not very smart,” Patrick says tiredly.

“Patrick.” Pete sounds frustrated. “Like, my girlfriend.”

Eyes closed, Patrick makes a face. “They have names for those for guys, you know.”

“My brain doesn’t work around you,” and Patrick doesn’t argue.

Patrick hums, and Pete feels it against his lips when he does. 

“We should get married,” Pete says into his ear. It’s a fair suggestion. 

Patrick rolls over to face the wall. Pete wraps his arms around him. 

Pete says, “I’m being serious.”

Patrick replies, “I never said no.”

Andy growls, “Will you both shut the fuck up?”

Joe snores. 

“Buy the ring first,” Patrick murmurs, and he’s drifting away already, Pete can tell, with how far apart his words are said. “Do you think we’ll need a prenup?”

“God, you’re so hot when you think ahead,” Pete sighs under his jaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are love! My tumblr is [loveinamaltshop](https://loveinamaltshop.tumblr.com/).


	5. Pete/Patrick ("Footing")

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You fucker.” Pete glares. “You’re just being a little bitch today, aren’t you?”

“To the left!” 

A bang on the wall and Pete’s disappointed groan is heard all the way three rooms over.

“No,  _ my  _ left!”

It seems Patrick complies, because he’s met with Pete’s much more satisfied, pleased groan.

“Listen,” Pete pants, throwing his head forward. His arms are screaming, straining as he stares back at Patrick, who’s red in the face. “It’s not that I don’t think you’re trying. It’s just that I  _ really  _ don’t think you’re trying.”

Patrick glares before he surges forward, causing Pete to groan out. His eyes shut despite himself, fingers curling at the leather of the couch. Patrick raises a defiant eyebrow at Pete.

“You fucker.” Pete glares. “You’re just being a little bitch today, aren’t you?”

“You’re not doing much of anything either,” Patrick spits as their movement becomes more synchronized that has Pete chewing on his bottom lip in satisfaction. Patrick is stronger than he looks, and Pete forgets he’s a drummer too sometimes, all hands and toned forearms. God, those fucking arms— 

“We should’ve use the rope, huh?” Patrick muses, a drop of sweat rolling down his temple. Pete swallows and doesn’t want to admit that Patrick’s right.

“Maybe,” Pete spreads his legs, causing Patrick to raise an eyebrow. “Change your footing.”

Patrick does.

“We’ll lift it easier this way.” Pete looks up at the next few flights of stairs. Fuck this new complex for having the elevator break down just as they were moving in. Fuck this heavy couch. After a flight, he smirks. “By the way, I can’t wait to fuck on this, can you?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are love! My tumblr is [loveinamaltshop](https://loveinamaltshop.tumblr.com/). I'm very open to prompts so don't hesitate to send them my way!


End file.
